


Memory Cage

by Anonymous



Series: Forbidden Kinks [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Cursed Derek, Dehumanization, M/M, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scat, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Watersports, human toilet, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More than ready to make the drive back to Beacon Hills, and perhaps thinking about stopping in and saying hi to Stiles, he opens the door to his car. Before he can get in, however, he catches the brief scent of magic – not like the witches, but similar – and his vision goes black. When he wakes completely, he’s in a cage. The room he’s in is dark, but it doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on him. Not that it matters – except for his cage, the room is empty. And freezing.</p><p>~~</p><p>Derek is hit with a memory loss/mind control charm while in LA, and when he wakes up, it's to learn that he's apparently served a man he calls Master for the last few years. As he's mistreated, the pack hurries to find and rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 0

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Derek getting his by an Obliviate-like spell wiping all his memory. He wanders around and ends up in a city. There he gets into the wrong hands and ends up being a houseboy. Points if the “Master” is some ugly, fat douche that gets off on Derek being passed around his equally ugly and douche-y friends. Maybe a video gets made and it finds its way into the interwebs where the pack, who is looking for him, finds it. -Anon
> 
> Here it is! This first chapter is pretty short, and while I don't know exactly how long this story will end up being, I do have at least up to 5 chapters planned. Not sure when I'll update next, but I have already begun the second chapter, so hopefully I'll finish that soon. Hope you like this part!

Derek left the shop feeling smug, glad that he’d managed to get the information that they needed. When he had first volunteered to come to Los Angeles and talk to the coven alone, he’d been met with a lot of opposition. Stiles had a surprisingly (or maybe not, considering who he was talking about) long list of reasons why the ex-alpha shouldn’t go alone, one of those being that the last time he’d left Beacon Hills, he’d been turned into a teenager and tricked by Kate Argent.

“I didn’t exactly go along with that willingly, Stiles,” he’d gritted out, only to be waved away.

But now, he’d managed to enter and exit the coven’s shop without any harm coming to him. He was definitely still his adult self, and still a werewolf, which were the most important parts of it. He couldn’t wait to rub it in the idiot’s face when he got back home.

It still startled him slightly, that he’d once again begun to consider the small Northern California town home. Or anywhere home, really. But having a pack again – and not being the alpha of said pack – helped him settle back into himself. The evolution into the full shift had also helped him out. Perhaps the most surprising source of peace in his life, was also the source of the most annoyance.

Since he had thought the wolf was going to die in Mexico, Stiles had been awfully clingy, especially since Braeden had gone off to search for the Desert Wolf again. Really, it had started before that – since Stiles had learned that Derek had defended him from Argent during the nogitsune incident. Whenever it had began, spending time with Stiles had become less of a headache and more of something he actually looked forward to. 

More than ready to make the drive back to Beacon Hills, and perhaps thinking about stopping in and saying hi to Stiles, he opens the door to his car. Before he can get in, however, he catches the brief scent of magic – not like the witches, but similar – and his vision goes black.

~~

He drifts in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversations, but not understanding any of it.

“… a werewolf? He gonna cause any trouble? I don’t have…”

“… yea, the cage should be big enough for him, though he’s certainly no kid…”

“…his training will start tomorrow, if that stuff actually works…”

“… I’ll hunt those bitches down and slaughter them if it doesn’t…”

Before he goes down again, he feels someone pat him on the head. “Welcome to your new home, boy.”

~~

When he wakes completely, he’s in a cage. The room he’s in is dark, but it doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on him. Not that it matters – except for his cage, the room is empty. And freezing.

He’s kneeling on hard cement, completely naked, except for something tight around his neck – a collar – and a strap around his head, tight enough to force his mouth open and cross between his teeth as a crude gag. 

He’s not alone for very, long however. A door on the far side of the room opens, letting in a bright light, and a man steps in. He’s far from attractive, this man – his gut spills out over the beltline of his jeans, his white wifebeater is stained yellow from the sweat from his pits, and he can smell his stench from all the way across the room. His face closely resembles that of a pug, and what little hair he has is thick with grease.

“Finally awake, I see,” the man says, and the smile he gives him is cruel. It confuses him even more – he knows it’s not a nice look, but he has the urge to submit instead of run or fight. “Let’s get you out of there, it’s time to remind you of a few things.”

~~

He’s told his name is “Boy”, which he briefly thinks is an odd name, and that there had been an incident with his memory but they would work hard to bring him up to par. The man who collected him is named James, but he only called him Master. And Boy has certain jobs he fulfills around the household that he now needs to relearn, not least of which includes bending over for his Master anytime he demands it.

“You need to keep your hole nice and loose for me,” his Master breathes, his grubby stumpy hands gripping his collar tight. “I don’t like having to fight for what’s rightfully mine.”

Sometimes, this duty extends to Master’s friends, who come over a few times a week. Boy is expected to offer up his hole or mouth to all of them, should they ask. And when they aren’t asking, he needs to kneel with his hole presented for them, so they have easy access should they want it. 

Outside of his sexual duties, he also has to clean his Master – both naturally, cleaning him up in the bath, but also with tongue baths. 

“Your little accident has set you back in that,” his Master told him. “So I’ll expect a nice tongue bath to make up for it, after we’re done here.”

After that, there’s also cooking and cleaning, which are the end of Boy’s duties. As each thing had been explained to him, he’d felt his mind settle. He knew that this is where he belonged, despite his earlier confusion. Whatever had happened to his memory, he was glad his Master had kept him through it, instead of finding someone else to fulfill his needs.

~~

Back in Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski worries over his cellphone, biting his nails as he waits for a text. Derek was supposed to be back hours ago, but he hasn’t even messaged him saying he’d be late. Willing to finally give the werewolf the benefit of the doubt, he’d decided to wait awhile before raising the alarms.

But it’s been four hours now though, so Stiles sends out a silent apology to Derek as he selects Scott’s number on his phone. 

When he hears the phone pick up, he doesn’t allow Scott the time to greet him. “Hey, buddy. So I think our fears came true – something’s happened to Derek.”


	2. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles really begin the search for their lost pack mate, while Derek wakes up to his first day (that he can remember) of degradation and slavery.

“So my dad put out an APB on Derek’s car last night, and it was found in some parking lot nowhere near where that coven was.”

 

“How far away was it?”

 

“Basically the complete opposite side of town. And there’s nothing in that neighbourhood, either, just a bunch of old abandoned buildings. So if Derek were the one to put his car there, he’d have no reason to even be there in the first place. Dad says it definitely pointed towards the car having been put there specifically by someone else.”

 

“Well, that’s not good.”

 

Stiles looked at Scott with a look of slight disbelief on his face. “Of course that’s not good, Scott. That means that somebody must have taken Derek, _again_ , and is probably working some weird voodoo magic that turns him into a unicorn, or something.”

 

Scott has nerve to look amused. “A unicorn?”

 

“Well who fucking knows, at this point! Last time we lost him, he was somehow magically turned into a teenager, and then he was un-werewolfed. And you, if you’ve forgotten, were magically turned into a deranged bear-wolf. So we’re not really in the place to doubt anything, here, Scott,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “But _anyway_ , my dad already has someone bringing his car back up here, so when it arrives tomorrow morning you should be able to check it for a scent.”

 

“Alright. Do you want me to talk to Danny, see if he can check some cameras or something?”

 

“You’ll probably have better luck than I would getting something from him.”

 

“On it. And Stiles?”

 

“Yea?”

 

“We’ll find him.”

 

“…Yea.”

 

~~

 

Boy wakes up with a crick in his neck from lying down in the cramped up cage. It’s surprisingly uncomfortable, though Master says he’s been sleeping in there for years, so he knows he must normally be fine with it. It’s still so disorienting, to have forgotten the last years of his life. It’s like there’s a large hole inside of him, desperate to be filled.

 

Luckily, he has someone who is more than willing to remind him of everything he’d lost in the mysterious accident. Remembering the night before, just before he went to bed, he smiles. He’d felt so lost when he’d first woken up yesterday, but his Master had put him to rights. He’d spent nearly an hour dragging his tongue over every inch of his Master’s body, cleaning him from what seemed like days of built up filth.

 

As he’s reminiscing, he hears a loud creaking noise from the room over. Master had given him a brief tour to remind him where everything was, so he knew that it was his owner’s bedroom that the sound was originating from. As he focused more, he could hear heavy footsteps staggering slightly, as if the other man was off balance. He felt a keen sense of longing to be in there, helping him wake up properly in any way he could, but being in the cage he knows he can’t leave.

 

Soon enough, his need is diverted. The door to the room opens, bringing the light from the hallway into it. His Master is walking quickly towards him, just as nude as he’d been the night before. His musk fills the rooms – despite his bath the night before, he’d sweat a lot during the night. Boy drools slightly at the thought of using his tongue to clean him up again, but from what he remembers, he knows that’s part of the nighttime ritual here.

 

His Master has other plans for him, anyways; his cage door opens with a slight pull on it, and barely after he’d gotten his head out the door, his mouth was stuffed full with his Master’s cock, and there’s a bitter liquid running into his mouth. In his shock, he swallows instinctively.

 

“This door wasn’t locked,” his Master says as he continues pissing down his throat. Boy does his best to swallow, but as he’d also seemed to have lost his muscle memory in the accident, he finds it a bit difficult to keep up. Somehow, though, he manages with only a drop or two spilled. “I’ve decided to be a little more lenient with you, considering what happened, but starting tomorrow I’ll expect you to return to your usual morning duties. As soon as you hear me wake, I want you to come and kneel by the bed so that I don’t need to come so far for a piss.”

 

He wants to nod, but his mouth is still being filled with the acrid morning piss. He hadn’t even thought to check the lock on the cage – he’d just assumed that it had been locked, as it had been when he’d first awoken yesterday. Boy felt his face go hot in shame – he was upset that he couldn’t remember

 

When his Master’s bladder is finally drained, he shakes off the last few drops onto Boy’s tongue. His mouth is coated in the taste of it, and he breathes in deeply as he catches the scent of his owner lingering on him.

 

“Time for breakfast,” his Master says, turning and leaving him panting for more, still half in his cage. He gathers himself as quickly as possible and follows after him on all fours, as he’d been instructed to.

 

He hadn’t seen much of the kitchen the night before – the tour had been extremely brief, and had mostly included the “necessities” such as the living room, bedroom, bathroom, and the room where his cage was. There had been a few doors that his Master had only gestured towards – a guest room, and a closet – that he hadn’t seen inside at all.

 

The microwave is already going as he crawls in – a quick sniff tells him that his owner must have grabbed something frozen to cook in it. He sees a bowl of water on the floor near the fridge, and with his interest piqued, he crawls towards it. It’s a dog bowl, and from his new vantage point, he can clearly see the word “Boy” written across the side.

 

The water inside of it isn’t water, like he’d first assumed. He recognizes it as more piss, and the scent of it confirms that it’s from his Master. But he can also tell that it’s cold and has mostly like been there for hours, if not days, already.

 

“That’s just in case you get thirsty before I’m able to give you a drink,” he hears from behind him, and he turns to see his owner grabbing the food from the microwave. He hadn’t even heard the timer go off. “You can have a few laps of it now, but I think you’ll be better off leaving it for later – I can’t always be ready to fill you up when you need it, though I do try my best,” he laughs slightly. The man on the floor almost wants to describe the laugh as cruel, but he shakes his head at that – why would his Master be cruel?

 

Doing as he’d been told, he leans over and laps at the piss in the bowl. It’s very tangy, and nowhere near as good as it had been fresh. He heaves slightly after a few sips, and so steps back. He’s sure he’ll appreciate the taste more later.

 

Following the smell of food, he crawls over to kneel next to where his owner is seated. He knows he’s not allowed to beg for food – another one of the rules he’d been told about – but he’s also very hungry. He didn’t get anything to eat the night before, except for the dirt that had covered his Master’s body, and his stomach is almost painfully empty.

 

But he doesn’t get any food; not what his Master’s eating, anyways. The man completely ignores him as he kneels there, watching him scarf down the food, hardly even chewing it first. It’s a rather big portion – the side of the container it’s in says “family-sized”, and it makes Boy feel happy, knowing Master is eating enough.

 

His tongue and mouth tingle at the thought, and he wonders if it’s some sort of reaction to seeing the large man eat, something from before the accident. Nothing else comes of it, though, so he brushes it off.

 

When he’s almost finished with the large meal, the man scoops up one last large mouthful and shoved it in his mouth. However, instead of swallowing immediately as he had been before, he actually begins chewing. A few seconds of this, and then he’s leaning over the side of the table, face coming closer to the kneeling slave’s.

 

A thick, meaty hand comes up and pulls Boy’s mouth open, and he complies with it, opening it nice and wide for whatever is about to come. When his Master opens his mouth and allows the pre-chewed food to run out into it, along with copious amounts of drool, he almost sighs in bliss. Already having been chewed, it goes down easily. If he’d thought the frozen food had smelled good, the taste of it is even better, and somehow enhanced by the saliva mixed in. He thinks he must have a dopey look on his face as he savours the last little bit before he swallows it.

 

“If you do well today, you’ll get something better to eat later,” his Master says. The slave is still salivating at the taste of the food mixed with the greasy man’s saliva, and he wants more, but accepts that he’ll have to wait until later. Besides, if whatever is coming is better than that, he is more than capable of waiting. He feels that tingle come again, and smiles; he’s surer now that he’s beginning to recover whatever memories had been lost.

 

After breakfast, his Master grabs some snacks and leads him into the living room.

 

“You’re going to do some pushups while I watch my shows,” his Master tells him, pointing to the floor in the middle of the room. “You’ll be expected to do at least a thousand a day on your free time, in order to keep in shape. I can’t have a lazy slave lounging around while I’m busy.”

 

Happy to have a purpose, Boy begins his workout, breathing in the scent of his Master’s musk. He feels eyes linger on him, but feels content that his Master is watching him work for him, and lifted himself up and down faster, hardly breaking a sweat.

 

~~

 

Boy is still doing pushups when he feels a hand grab his waist tightly, only to jerk him up in a kneeling position. He yelps slightly at the rough contact, but finds his balance quickly, and stays stock still in wonder about what his Master wants from him. He feels a quick burst of frustration – if the accident hadn’t happened, he’d already know what he wanted. The frustration burns away, though, as he senses the presence before him.

 

His muscles are tight from the workout, but he can already feel them calming down as he looks up at the man in front of him. Once again, he’s caught on the size of that hulking belly, covered in sweat and crumbs from the food his Master had been eating while he worked out. His throat clenched in shame; with his toned stomach and carved out features, there is no way that Boy looked as masculine as his Master. The flesh spilled out from his gut was a much larger mass than that what he carried on his own body – he’d never be able to live up to it.

 

He wasn’t able to wallow in his self-shame for very long, however, before his Master was nudging something into his lips. Looking down from his Master’s intimidating stature, he came face-to-face with his owner’s cock for the third time that he could remember.

 

It has been one of his favourite parts about the night before, when during the tongue bath he’d gotten to his Master’s groin. The scent of the man had been most potent around his cock and balls, and Boy had luxuriated in it while he’d slaved to clean it. He’d also loved when his Master had turned around and introduced his tongue to the hole that lay between his ass cheeks, but his groin had been like nirvana.

 

Now, he was just as eager. Knowing almost instinctively what he was supposed to do, his mouth parted easily around the organ. He half-hoped that he was about to get another drink – he was rather thirsty, after all of those push-ups – but his Master’s words let him know that wasn’t the case.

 

“Get it nice and wet, Boy,” Master said roughly. His hips jerked forward until the slave was choking on the dick in his mouth, causing copious amounts of saliva to run out along it. He only thrusts in a few times, before he pulls out and marches back behind him. Very quickly, Boy feels the tip of the drool-damp cock against his rear entrance, and he only has time for a quick intake of air before the pressure comes.

 

The pain is fierce, like how he’d imagine a knife being stabbed into your gut would feel. His Master has no mercy, not that he can expect him to, and he rocks forward with the motion of being speared on his dick. Within seconds, despite the resistance he feels his ass give, he feels his Master’s pubic hair and balls resting around the surely-torn rim of his hole. He’s panting harshly, and his mouth feels oddly tight, his teeth feeling like something’s trying to force it’s way out from behind them. Nothing comes, though, but the pain does start fading. Before long, it’s completely gone, and all he can focus on is the feeling of being full.

 

Then his Master begins moving, sawing his cock back and forth in his insides, and the pain restarts. It fades in and out as he’s filled over and over again. He’s pressed down by the heavy weight of his Master’s gut, sweat running off of it and onto his back. He feels warm from it, and enjoys the thought of being covered in his owner’s scent. It allows Boy to feel a few moments of peace, before he remembers the pain again.

 

He’s not sure how long it goes on – all he knows is the feel of being sawed in half, the weight of the man above him, and the rough grunts his Master is letting out. When it ends, it ends with a spurting of warm cum deep in his ass, filling him up another way. A lot more than he would have thought comes into him, and he wonders if his Master had abstained from sex while he was recuperating from his accident. Despite the lingering pain he still feels pleased at the thought, that his Master enjoyed him so much that he’d held off from pleasuring himself until his slave was ready for him. He felt even more determined, then, to get back into the routine that he had forgotten.

 

His Master has finished cumming, now, and he thinks he might pull out, except he doesn’t. Instead, he feels the dick inside of him twitch slightly, before the feeling of warm liquid filling him returns. At the amount, and from how quick it’s filling him, he knows that it’s not cum. It’s piss.

 

The man above him sighs with relief as he empties his waste out into his slave, but Boy isn’t relieved – the pressure of his bowels being filled is beginning to get a bit much. He holds back from asking his Master to stop, knowing it’s what’s expected from him, and instead just takes it.

 

As the last few drops trickle out, he knows he’s about to let it all out. He whines as his Master begins pulling out, worried about spilling his guts all over the carpet – it’s not particularly clean already, but he’s sure that if he spoiled it he’d be punished.

 

“Just hold it for a minute, Boy,” his Master spits out, smacking the houseboy on the flank sharply. When he’s all the way out, Boy clenches his hole shut tightly, working hard to keep the liquid filling him in. Just as he thinks he’s going to let it go, he’s speared again – this time by something bigger and colder than his Master’s cock had been. The pain is bright again, and he keens before it goes away, but when it does he’s still left so full. He can feel the rim of his hole stretching tightly over the object inside of him, keeping him plugged up, and he’s more aware of it than he’d been during the entire fuck.

 

When he sees his Master’s cock again, he’s still too focused on the strain of being kept full of cum, piss, and the plug to really take notice of what’s on it. Instead, his mouth opens once again instinctively, and it plunders down into his throat. That’s when he tastes it – the mixture of cum, piss, what’s most likely blood from tearing, and what can only be his own shit. He gags around the rod.

 

“None of that,” he hears from above him, before he gets cuffed on the back of his head. The heavy slap sends a burst of pain through his head, but also shoves him closer to the crotch in front of him, sending more of the filthy penis into his throat. “You got it dirty, now you need to clean it up – that’s the rules.”

 

Resigned, and still raring to please, he swallows the bile he feels coming up and begins laving it. As it becomes cleaner, it uncovers more of the natural taste he’d gotten last night, and he begins licking more and more, wanting it to never stop. But his Master is clearly sensitive from the orgasm, and he pulls out as soon as his dick is clean.

 

“Well, now that you’re all plugged up, I’m going to take a quick nap. But I have something for you to do in the mean time.”

 

He’s taken to the bathroom, and crawling along with the plug and piss in his ass is very difficult. He can feel how much he needs to empty it, to get it out of him, but knows that won’t be happening for a while.

 

The brief glance of it he’d gotten the night before had been enough to tell him that the bathroom was dirty, but actually being in it now, he realizes it’s more than that. The sink is alright, just a few hairs and toothpaste here and there, but the toilet, floor, and tub are covered in grime. The toilet, of course, is the worst – shit and piss cover the rim, and some of it has dripped down the sides onto the floor below it.

 

“As you can see, it’s gotten a little dirty in here, what with you out of commission and all,” his Master begins, and he feels a hands grip his hair as he’s lead towards the toilet. “It’s part of your duties to keep this room spick and span. You’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. When I come back, I expect you to have licked every inch of this bathroom clean. If you do, I might be nice to you, and let you empty yourself out.” He pushes the slave’s face towards the water in the bowl – it’s surprisingly clean water, for all that the toilet it’s in is not.

 

Taking the hint, Boy sticks his head into the bowl and starts licking at the skid marks he can see in there, eager to please his Master and have the plug removed. He tastes the same taste as he’d gotten from the larger man’s dirty after-fuck cock, and knows for certain that that’s the taste of shit then. It’s disgusting, and once again he wants to gag, but the more he licks, the more he enjoys it. He vaguely hears his Master leave the room behind him, but he’s already lost to the job, completely focused.

 

~~

 

Hours later, Boy is still working on cleaning the bathroom. His tongue is sore and dry, and he’s taken to wetting in the water in the toilet bowl often as the time goes on. He’s just about finished when his Master comes back.

 

The piss and cum in his gut had been sloshing around the whole time he’d been crawling and licking, leaving him feeling full and extended inside. Remembering that he might be allowed to remove the plug, now, he perks up and looks at his owner, hoping that he’s done a good enough job.

 

But his Master doesn’t make a move towards him. Instead, he steps past where he’s licking at the floor near the doorway, and takes a heavy seat onto the toilet. He doesn’t acknowledge him at all, but the slave clearly hears the sound of his owner taking a dump. The stench is almost unbearable, and his tongue is dry again, but with his Master on the toilet he can’t wet it. He just keeps on licking, trying to complete the job.

 

He’s spaced out slightly when he feels his Master pulling him up. Standing for the first time all day, he’s lead over to the toilet his owner had just vacated and sat down on the still-warm rim.

 

“Alright, you can reach down and pull the plug out, now; make sure to get it all out.”

 

He doesn’t give his Master a chance to change his mind. Leaning over slightly, he practically rips the plug out, so desperate to get rid of the pressure. It comes exploding out as he does, and he feels the piss run out easily before his own shit, loose and watery from the makeshift-enema, follows it.

 

“Looks like the toilet is dirty again, and just in time for you to have your meal. I did promise you one, after all. Eat it all up, and then clean up after yourself. It’s almost bedtime for me, and I need my tongue bath before hand.”

 

Once again, he’s left alone, and as he leans over the toilet bowl this time, he thinks for the first time that he doesn’t want to be here. The thought is dismissed as he begins eating the mixture of his and his Master’s waste, however, and soon he’s just eager to get his tongue and nose into his owner’s groin again. He thinks the nighttime routine is probably his favourite.


	3. Day 2, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James introduces his slave to the box of toys underneath his bed. Boy isn't sure if he likes them much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might not technically be your birthday anymore, but happy birthday Icycryos! Hope you enjoy this newest chapter. :)

On the morning of Boy’s second day (that he could remember) of his life, he was at the side of his Master’s bed as soon as he heard the first telltale sounds of waking. He wasn’t sure what position his Master would want him in, so he tried to remember how he’d kneeled to receive a drink the day before, and replicated it. Knees slightly spread as they were, his cock and balls were easily within view – he felt a stirring of unease, but brushed it off. There was no reason to fear being so exposed in front of his Master.

 

He could almost still feel the sting of the rough fuck the day before, and how he’d been so full. But the pain wasn’t actually still there – it was puzzling to him. He felt that there should have been some evidence of the occurrence, but he only had the memory.

 

Again, something about the situation wriggled in his brain – he felt there was something he was missing, but as before, he pushed it aside.

 

It was a few minutes more before the man in the bed in front of him shifted again, and when the pale eyes peered over the side of the bed and saw Boy waiting for him, he gave a small smile. Boy felt a rush of accomplishment at having pleased him – he’d be sure to remember to be waiting here every morning, if only to receive that smile.

 

As Master got out from under the blankets, the smell came to Boy – unwashed sheets, sweat, and what he now easily recognized as urine wafted out from the bed. Boy had worked hard to remove any sweat and dirt from his Master’s body the night before, licking hard and deep into the folds of skin, but by the time his Master had ushered him off to bed, Boy was still unsatisfied with his job.

 

He’d have to work harder at keeping his Master clean in the future. He was looking forward to the next tongue bath.

 

But now, he had something else to look forward to. The taste of urine was bitter, but it was warm. It also had the plus of coming from his Master, like a gift just for him.

 

Standing in front of him now, his Master wasted no time in sliding his dick into his throat. It wasn’t that big, really; wider than it was long. But now that he had the memory of how it felt in his ass, Boy knew it was an impressive member. It rested heavily on his tongue before it stiffened up as the torrent of hot, stale liquid rushed into his throat. It was difficult to keep up with, even with the limited amount of practice he’d gotten the day before. But he managed.

 

When the urine came to a stop, his Master didn’t pull out – well, not all the way, anyway. There was barely a pause between the piss and the face fucking. Perhaps he should have expected it, but he hadn’t; this hadn’t been part of the morning the day before. His Master wasn’t gentle. Soon, his head was being jerked back and forth as he struggled to keep still during the fuck.

 

It didn’t go on very long. Just as Boy felt he might need to worry about whiplash, he felt his Master’s hips stutter until the tip of his cock went still over his tongue. He could taste every salty, musky spurt of the cum as it was emptied out into his mouth, and he drank it down, eager to please. He received a pat on the head before his Master pulled out.

 

With that done, he followed his Master out into the kitchen as he did yesterday, and the morning went on.

 

~~

 

James didn’t consider himself to be a very attractive man. He knew he was obese – had certainly had many people look at him with scorn while he lumbered down the sidewalks in town. He’d also gotten many a turned up nose as they took in his stench; he wasn’t one for daily showers, or even weekly showers.

 

However, he knew that none of that mattered. He wasn’t looking for nor was he interested in having a relationship in any way. His tastes ran along a different route, and now that he’d discovered the perfect way to have all of those tastes met, he was living the dream.

 

A few days ago, when he’d walked into a small Wiccan shop that one of his buddies, Alex, had recommended to him, he hadn’t expected much. He certainly hadn’t expected the purple powder that the shop owner had handed him to actually work.

 

But now he had a slave. And what a remarkable slave he was. A werewolf – which the shop owner had warned him about, but never had he thought it would actually be true! But it had been, and now not only did he have a slave, he had his very own alpha werewolf. Better yet, a werewolf that didn’t even _remember_ being a werewolf.

 

That powder had sure been some strong stuff.

 

He’d known the moment he saw the slave that he wanted him. He’d walked into the store while James had still been there, and James had wanted to scoff. The werewolf was the basic description of tall, dark, and handsome. James had always hated guys like that – ruggish good looks, muscles stacked on muscles, clearly packing. They always got all the tail just for being pretty, while guys like him and his buddies had to work hard to pull anyone.

 

So, the spell. It had been almost nothing to text a few of his buddies – including Alex – and tell them that he’d gotten the stuff and he’d found his mark. And within the hour, they’d all been there, ready to catch a slave. The shop owner had even winked at James as the werewolf had left, like he’d known what he was planning to do and approved of it. The bastard.

 

After that, it was a matter of minutes for him and his buddies to follow the wolf and take him down.

 

And now, just a few days later, it was like none of that had ever happened. Whatever was in that stuff clearly removed any memories, just as promised. Instead of returning to the pack he most likely had, the werewolf was brain dead, following his orders. The first day had been the best day of his life, watching this powerful man-creature take it as he plowed into him, and seeing him clean his cock of the shit, blood, cum, and urine. It was exactly what he had always wanted to do to the jocks from high school. Living vicariously, and all of that.

 

Watching the slave now as he did pushups in the living room, his legs spread just enough for James to see his hole winking open slightly with every flexing of the muscle, his breeder balls and long cock touching the ground with every downwards motion, James smirked. If the day before had been the best day, than the rest of his life was going to be fucking fantastic.

 

~~

 

On what he estimated to be the five hundredth pushup he’d done, Boy heard his Master shifting around on the couch behind him. He continued to exercise, not wanting to get in trouble for stopping, until he heard the command.

 

“That’s enough,” the weedy voice sounded, followed by a snapping sound. As he turned out of his position, he saw that the snapping had been from his Master’s fingers – directing him like a dog. As had happened so many times since he’d woken in his cage a few days ago, he felt something rearing up inside of him, like a flame – but it was quickly extinguished.

 

“There’s a box in my room, under the bed,” his Master continued. “Go fetch it.”

 

Boy hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should crawl or walk, but figured it would be faster on two legs. He rose swiftly and entered the bedroom, finding the box peeking out from the side of the bed easily. It was a simple, brown cardboard box – slightly torn at the edges, with worn folds on the lid. Obviously it had been opened many times before. There was a chemical scent wafting out towards him from it, the strong aroma of rubber and plastic. It peeked his interest, but he didn’t dare take a look.

 

Heading back to the living room, he stood awkwardly in front of his Master with the box for a few seconds.

 

“Put it down and open it,” was finally said, and Boy hurried to do as told. Opening it, he actually got to feel just how worn the box was – he was scared that the lid would be ripped off even as he carefully pushed it aside. Now that he basically had permission, he allowed his eyes to fall on the objects inside.

 

He couldn’t help the small noise that left his throat.

 

The box was filled with toys – dildos, plugs, and other miscellaneous objects of all sizes. One of them, disturbingly, appeared to be barely smaller than Boy’s fist. Despite not being able to remember his life with Master before a few days ago, he felt certain that he knew what – or who – the toys were for.

 

And it certainly wasn’t his Master.

 

He noticed some lube at the top of the box, brand new – like it had been an afterthought, or maybe that it was used so frequently that it had to be replaced often. Boy was willing to bet it was the latter. Not all of the toys looked daunting; some of them were average size, ranging from the size of Master’s cock

 

“I want you to put on a little show for me,” his Master said. Boy looked up at him at the words, and saw that he had begun stroking his cock slightly at some point. It was almost comical, watching his arm reach under his hulking belly to grab the average member, but something about it just made Boy want to grovel instead of laugh.

 

“Start with the beads, and go slow,” his Master said. Boy wanted to whimper – the anal beads in the box were an intimidating feat. He would certainly feel every last one of them – a dozen beads, ranging from half an inch to what seemed to be three inches in diameter. Boy wasn’t sure they would even fit.

 

Grabbing the beads, he felt the weight of them in his hands. This was going to be a lot different than having his Master fuck him – and he had to put on a show. Reaching for the lube, he turned around and got on all fours. Looking back briefly to make sure he was in a good position for the larger man to watch him, he thumbed open the cap of the lube and poured a generous amount onto his hand. Taking a deep breath, he began.

 

He could hear the sound of skin-on-skin behind him get louder and faster as he began to finger himself open, scissoring every now and then. Working methodically, he got three fingers in him in no time, although he knew he was going to need to stretch a lot more than that if he wanted to be prepared for the last few beads.

 

But-

 

Master slapped his wrist. “That’s enough. Get on with it.”

 

Another deep breath, he brought the end of the string of beads to his hole. The first bead went in easily – there was a little resistance from his muscles, but he barely had to push to make its way past it. The second bead was a little larger, and the stretch was more noticeable, but it too popped in with barely a push. As he slipped more and more beads through, he could feel his legs begin shaking – by the seventh one, which was closer to two inches in diameter than one, the beads were pressing down on his prostate in an almost uncomfortable way. He was already feeling stuffed, and he was sure the beads would somehow be visible through his stomach if he managed to get them all in.

 

One more bead, and four more still to go, he panted a bit. He felt too full. His muscles were straining as he clenched them, his hole already wanting to expel the toys from the cavity. He know had eight inside of him, the last one a thick two inch diameter. Perhaps if it had been only that bead, it would have been easy to keep it in, but having the others inside just made the pressure slightly-painful instead of enjoyable.

 

But he soldiered on, forcing the next one through. If he didn’t have his Master watching him, he would have stopped at that one. It was definitely painful, now. Whilst his fingers were not small, he had not been able to prepare his hole enough for the breach of all of the beads, and he was feeling it now. He could also feel the first bead deep in his hole, much farther inside than he thought it should be. He wanted to cry as he imagined putting the other three inside, but he knew he had to do it.

 

All the while, he could hear his Master jacking off. There were wheezy little breaths coming from the man behind him, and Boy could smell the stench of sweat and precum as he worked himself over. It was like the slave was his very on, free-to-watch porno.

 

Finally, as he felt the last bead go through, and his hole slowly closed around it, the man on the floor allowed himself to relax slightly. It was still painful, but maybe now that he knew there wasn’t anymore it would get be-

 

Boy didn’t see it coming. He was still focusing on keep his hole closed around the large intrusion, and breathing through the stretch, when he felt a tugging. Without stopping to allow each bead to make its way out, his Master jerked all of them out at once. Letting out a yelping sound, Boy couldn’t make any other noise of protest. By the time the sensation registered, it was already over, and his hole was empty and burning. He was certain he was now bleeding, as well.

 

“Put them back in,” his Master said. He felt the beads land somewhere to his right side. “Go a bit quicker, this time.”

 

Letting out another whimper, Boy grabbed the beads back up and began the process all over again, the stretch even worse as his hole still worked to recover from the rough removal.

 

Within five minutes, he had them back in. He was stiff as he kneeled on the floor, worried that there would be another tug, but it didn’t come. Instead, he heard his Master shift forward, some rustling in the box, and then a _thunk_ as something else landed beside him.

 

It was a short, but wide, butt plug.

 

“Put that in to keep them in – we’ll get them out later. And then come here and suck on my balls for a bit. I’d like to cum sometime in this century.”

 

With not a single other sound of complaint, Boy picked up the plug and forced it in. The burn was terrible, but seemed to settle quicker than the beads had. Despite how full he was, it was still somehow relieving to have the plug in. He didn’t have to keep his muscles clenched to prevent the beads from popping out anymore. He was certain, now, that the bulge was visible on his stomach, but he didn’t want to look down to check. He thought the sight of it might shock him too much.

 

Turning gingerly, feeling the beads within him shift around inside of him as he did so, he worked his way back between his Master’s thighs. Taking the hairy, sweaty sack gently between his lips, he began to suck on the balls gently. Like a baby to a teat. It was comforting, to be doing this instead of shoving a toy up his hole. He could do this all day, even though the friction of his Master’s hand jerking off against his hair was a little uncomfortable.

 

But thinking of the rest of the day, Boy couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the afternoon would bring. He could only hope that he’d be able to remove the plug and beads soon.

 

~~

 

In the middle of a mostly empty parking lot, two young men stood puzzled next to an empty vehicle.

 

“There’s just nothing?” the taller one said. “How can there just be no scent?”

 

“I don’t know, Stiles,” the other one replied. “But there’s nothing here – the car doesn’t even smell like _Derek_ , and it’s his car.”

 

“So, he was definitely kidnapped somehow, then,” Stiles said, biting his lip with worry. His eyes hadn’t left the car since Scott had told him that there were no scents – he was desperate to keep any proof that Derek had been there, or at least in LA, in his sight.

 

“Hey,” Scott said softly, resting a hand on Stiles shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Deaton is already working on what could have done this. Maybe he’ll find a way to remove the scent blocker.”

 

“Yea, maybe.”

 

“Come on, I promised your dad I’d bring you home right after we checked out the car.”

 

Stiles allowed Scott to steer him away from the car and towards the jeep. He felt like he was walking too stiffly for him to appear as uncaring as he wished to, but he also knew there was no point hiding his worry from Scott. As his best friend, Scott more than guessed at the feelings he held for the stray ex-alpha. And with every day that passed with no sign of him, the worry only grew.

 

Turning back to look at Derek’s car one more time, Stiles nodded briefly, determination to find the older man renewed. If he didn’t find him, how would he ever tell him he loved him?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is unbeta'd, so if you find any grammar or spelling errors, please feel free to let me know in the comments. Also, if you would like me to add/change the tags in anyway, feel free to mention that, as well.
> 
> If you'd like to send me a prompt, or if you'd simply like to chat through some kinks with me on IM, feel free to visit me @forbiddenkinks-ao3 and shoot me a message!
> 
> Rape/Non-Con: Derek is his with some form of magical spell that causes him to black out. When he wake sup, his memory has been erased, and he is then convinced that he is actually a sexual slave to a man.


End file.
